Wet Bottom Warm Heart
by Marla Fair
Summary: Written for Bonanza Boomer's Pennings from Prompts. The phrase 'he tried to remember who had talked him into this' had to be used. Little Joe Cartwright finds himself bottom down in a creek with a little girl holding a gun on him. What's going on?


Wet Bottom, Warm Heart

Joe Cartwright was sitting hip deep in water, with his hands and feet bound and a bandage around his head, and absolutely no self-respect. He sighed as he looked up at the little blonde girl with the big eyes and even bigger gun and wondered how in the world this had happened.

Then he tried to remember who had talked him into this – coming out here, wherever he was...to do whatever it was he was here to do.

Whatever he h _ad_ been here to do.

He was...certainly _not_ doing it now.

Of course, with a bandage around his head that was dripping with blood, remembering was a little hard. He closed one eye and tried to concentrate on the girl's face as if clearly seen it might spark his reluctant memory. It was hard with the sun sinking behind her. It was right in his eyes so that meant he was facing west, which might mean he'd come from the east. All of which could mean _something_ if he'd known what direction he came from in the first place.

Joe sniffed and shivered. Then he sneezed.

"You just keep quiet," the mighty tot with the rifle aimed squarely between his eyes warned in a tiny tot's little voice. She drew a big breath and drew herself up as the big gun dipped dangerously down. "Otherwise I might have to shoot you."

Joe blinked. All of a sudden there had been three of her. He hadn't liked the odds when there was only one.

She looked like she might be a small ten, or maybe a big seven year old. Her arms weren't any bigger in girth than the rifle barrel and her fingers, well, they were curled under near the firing mechanism like five little piggies.

Were there five?

Joe looked at his bound hands and watched as another drop of blood dripped down them to join with the rushing water, twisting this way and that like a pink ribbon in brown hair. His eyes stayed on it for a long time, noting how the ribbon grew paler the farther away it got. Wondering where it was going...

"Hey!"

The shout brought his head up.

"You cain't go to sleep."

The sun was almost down now. She was a skinny silhouette against the burning orb. "How come?" he asked, feeling stupid for doing so.

"You might die, silly."

He'd batted his lashes as much as a girl looking over her fan. This last time, one eye wanted to remain shut. Maybe it thought it could shut out the pain.

He hated to tell it, it wasn't working.

Drawing a breath, Joe forced both eyes open. "I kind of thought that was what you wanted."

If a silhouette could be indignant, this one was. "Why would I want you dead, silly?" she paused. When she spoke again, her tone had a giggle hidden in it "I think you're just about the cutest thing that ever came down the Gold Hill Road."

Gold Hill. That was south of Virginia City, wasn't it? Maybe he'd been in the city. Or on his way to the city. Or coming home.

Pa. Adam.

Hoss.

Joe eyed his hands and feet and then the water, and then the mighty tot who had a crush _on_ him and a gun pointed _at_ him.

He was _never_ gonna live this one down.

"Can I ask you a question?"

She nodded.

"How come you got a gun on me?"

"Ma told me to."

"Your ma. Where is she?"

"Back at the cabin, putting out the fire."

Now that she mentioned it, there was a scent of smoke on the air. "What fire?"

"The one we pulled you out of, silly."

" _You_ pulled me out of?"

Her shoulders rose with pride and then fell with the truth. "Pa wouldn't let me."

"Pa's here too?"

"Where _else_ would he be?" she asked as if his question had been the dumbest thing in the world.

"Okay. Let me get this straight. Your pa _and_ ma," he looked to her for confirmation and got it, "pulled me out of a burning cabin and then tied my hands and feet and shoved me in the creek after hitting me over the head?"

She sighed. "You _sure_ are pretty, but you're awful dumb. What would you think they'd do that for?"

"Entertainment?"

The girl's head shook. "Ma always told me you can't judge a book by its cover. You was already tied up and hurt when they pulled you out."

"So why am I sitting in a creek?"

"Cause – "

"Ma told you to."

She gun lifted and fell with her shoulders. "Well, not exactly..."

"Elizabeth Carnaby what are you doing?" a female voice demanded. "Land's sake alive! He'll catch his death!"

A woman appeared. She held her hand out. "Give me that gun! Wherever did you get it?"

"You told me to get it, Ma. Don't you remember?"

"When did I tell you that?"

"When we found the cabin on fire. You and Pa rushed in and found the stranger and pulled him out. You looked at me and said, "Bess, you take care of him like you would your little brother. And that's what I did." The girl stood tall. "Last year when we had that fire you had me take Jack to the creek and put him in it so he wouldn't burn, and then you had me watch over him with the gun."

The woman was stunned into silence. Then she laughed. "So I did. But, child... Just help me get him out."

Joe felt gentle hands lift him and then half-carry him up the bank. Then, all of a sudden they disappeared and he found himself floating like that ribbon.

Sometime later Joe opened his eyes. The girl was there. She had her hands anchored on the side of the bed and was staring at him.

"Hey, big sister," he said.

"Hey, little brother," she beamed.


End file.
